


Now That You're Ahead

by liwellen



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7266439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liwellen/pseuds/liwellen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan Lynch had a fucking competency kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now That You're Ahead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sksai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksai/gifts).



> For Sarah. 
> 
> I hope this is okay.

It was suddenly so easy for Ronan’s mind to drift that it scared him sometimes.

Before, the search for Glendower took up his time, and dreaming built worlds in empty spaces that appeared when his childhood was razed to the ground. Before, it was the frantic push and pull between fear and acceptance; between hate and reconciliation; between him and God. Before, Gansey’s demise was knife digging into flesh, and his love for his mother was a fight that he was never going to win.

(He did not think of what happened to Cabeswater as loss because it still burnt inside him like a star, and he was sure that he could – he would – call it back with that secret language of theirs one day.)

But then Gansey came back to life like some twisted version of Christ, and Glendower was nothing more than another chapter that ended with a sigh. Once again the story came down to three brothers, but unlike the first time, there was the sweet promise of something good.

What happened after was him holding on to the hand of a beautiful boy who made his pulse go wild, and it was him meeting the knowing gaze of his best friend. It was nodding at everything that was gone from his life – a mother, a friend – and knowing that he would be alright. Maybe not immediately, but someday, and that was enough.

Life used to be a race, and suddenly it wasn’t, but Ronan Lynch was surprisingly fine with that. 

Living out of the fast lane, Ronan had time to watch, to notice, to wonder, to think. He learned that he could find the familiar thrill he used to steal on dark streets at night in Adam Parrish (from the way he smiled like it was a private affair, the way he kissed slowly and ardently, the way he said, “I was just thinking about you,” like it was nothing new.)

But the real ache – that electric surge – was ignited by something that he did not understand at first. Not until it finally dawned on him when he saw the plateful of eggs and toast, with a note taped next to it on the wooden table. Chainsaw was already fed, and Opal was, according to the neat handwriting, already on her customary morning walk with Adam, never mind the fact that the January cold was so brutal these days that you could hardly feel your nose after five minutes out in the open. That morning, the knowledge was finally there for him to pick at like a split-open fruit.

Ronan Lynch had a fucking competency kink.

“Goddamn it,” he swore at the sunny side ups, and he marched to the bathroom to jerk off furiously.

_God fucking damn it._

 

* * *

 

When Ronan opened the front door only to find Adam completely drenched on his doorstep, the first thing that got out of his mouth was, “Nice shoes, asshole.”

In Ronan’s defense, it was impossible not to comment on them. Even as he scowled, Adam was quite a sight. He was soaked to the bone, red t-shirt clinging to him like a second skin, and there were mud stains everywhere on his jeans, but that new pair of Converse shoes managed to escape unscathed.

It had taken Adam a long time to be able to afford them, after finally giving up on gluing the soles of his old shoes back together for the thousandth time, tediously setting aside some cash from his job at a garage and doing tarot readings in his dorm room. (He no longer had the same intuition Cabeswater had given him, but he still had a few tricks up his sleeve courtesy of the ladies at 300 Fox Way. It also helped that rich college kids were always suckers for that sort of thing.)

It wasn’t hard at all for Ronan to imagine Adam wrapping shopping bags around those shoes despite looking like a complete idiot, just so he could make his way to the car safely. To Adam, walking in the rain with those shoes on might as well mean smearing mud on hard-earned dollars.

When Ronan did not budge from the doorway, Adam asked, thoroughly irritated, “Are you going to let me in?”

“No, honey, I just cleaned the floor,” Ronan replied flatly, but really only half-joking.

Adam rolled his eyes and pushed his way in anyway. Ronan almost jumped when their bodies brushed against each other – Adam was _freezing_ – and suddenly, Ronan couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed at the wet trail Adam was leaving behind. Almost instinctively, he grabbed a towel from the bathroom and went to their bedroom where Adam was already twisting out of his damp shirt. He thanked him softly when he handed it over.

With nothing else to do, Ronan dropped heavily into the bed and blatantly stared as Adam changed into his dry clothes. Adam studiously pretended not to notice, but a deep flush began to run down his chest. The sight of it satisfied Ronan so thoroughly that he almost missed Adam’s question.

“Where’s Opal?”

“In her blanket fort,” Ronan answered back distractedly. “Where were you?”

Adam’s hands paused in the middle of pulling up his jeans. “Didn’t you see my note?”

Ronan frowned. “What note?”

“The note I left on the – you know what? Never mind.” Adam sighed and buttoned his jeans. “Did you at least call the lawyer?”

Ronan resisted the urge to suffocate himself with a pillow at that question. He was starting to regret his decision to expand the farm, to get everything down in black and white, wishing he had stuck to the nondescript corner of the farmers’ market instead. But the farm’s business was doing better than expected, and Ronan had wanted something solid that he could share with Matthew during his lifetime, so here he was, being an _adult_ – it was all terribly disgusting.

“Yes, I’m driving down to his office on Tuesday. That’s the only time Declan's free to come with.” Then he added, “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Just a second,” Adam said dismissively, obviously preoccupied. “Did you find last month’s bank statement? I told you where it's kept, right? You’re probably going to need it on Tuesday.”

Ronan scowled. “I told you I don’t understand those damn things. The fucking lawyer asks me for one thing and I always end up bringing something else. I can’t fucking figure out which is which. And answer my question, asshole. Where were you?”

Adam huffed and crossed the room to fetch his backpack that was also wet from the rain. He unzipped it and took out something that was carefully wrapped in plastic. But when Adam revealed the contents, Ronan was not the least bit impressed. 

Binders, markers, and file tabs littered the dark bedspread. Ronan picked up a sharpie with a look of disdain, and asked, “You went out, in the pouring rain, for _this_?” When Ronan made a move to draw on his own arm, he was stopped with a light shove.

Adam replied, a little hotly, “I went out, in the pouring rain, to make you a _filing system_.” Ronan stared as Adam continued, “The papers are a mess because you keep stuffing them in the drawer without looking at any of them. Even the thing is getting jammed because it’s so full. You’ll stop getting confused once I sort them out.”

As if to prove his point, Adam removed the sharpie from Ronan’s slack grip and wrote TAXES on the cover of a binder. As Adam drew a straight line below the word, Ronan felt a strange sensation, not unlike liquid fire, run through his body. “If you’re not sure where any of the papers go next time, just show me. It’s not like we don’t skype every day anyway. But it’s fine if you leave them on one side. I’ll do it when I get the chance to come back. Oh, and I’ll fix the drawer before I head back to school, because I know you’re conveniently allergic to the office and you’ll never bother to do it and –”

Adam never got to finish whatever he was saying because Ronan was too busy kissing the hell out of him.

God, he was so in love with this anal-retentive jerk.

 

* * *

 

Ronan knew it was not a coincidence when he bumped into Henry outside the hardware store. The boy flashed a grin, which Ronan blatantly ignored. He refused to break his stride across the parking lot, purposefully marching his way to the BMW in his black combat boots.

Unfazed by Ronan’s off-putting demeanor, Henry quickly caught up and asked, jovially, “Is that for the party?”

Ronan scowled as he stashed the things he had just bought to build Opal a treehouse into the back of his car. “What party?”

The amiable smile remained on Henry’s face. “Funny. _What party?_ Ha! The party we’re having at your place tonight, of course.”

“You’re not having a party at my place,” Ronan replied, definitively. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

In a faux casual voice, Henry said, “Of course we are. You promised, remember? You agreed just last week.”

“Last week,” Ronan repeated, flatly. “As in last week when you ran over Adam’s rose bush in my garden and bought me two bottles of tequila.”

Henry’s smile turned sly. “Well, who knew you were such a generous drunk?”

Ronan told him very honestly, “Cheng, I’m this close to beating the shit out of you right now.”

Apparently getting bored with the conversation, Henry pulled out his phone from his jacket, and his nimble fingers danced across the bright screen. “Don’t tell me you’re going back on your word now, Lynch.”

Ronan simply said, “Fuck you,” but when he made a move to get in the car, Henry grabbed his arm, genuinely alarmed now.

“Come on. It’s just a couple of us from Aglionby. Where’s your school spirit, huh?”

“Henry,” Ronan answered slowly, leaving no room for misinterpretation, “it died the day I dropped out.”

Henry’s grip grew tighter when Ronan tried to twist away. “Look, I can’t change the plans now. Those guys have already RSVP’d. Come on, man. I’ll owe you one. I’ll even stop Tad from staring at Adam’s ass. I _promise_!”

“Fuck,” Ronan spat furiously. “Fine! Yes! Now let go of my damn arm.”

Henry grinned. “I take back every bad thing that I have ever said about you, Lynch. Married life has turned you soft. You’re practically an angel.”

Ronan yanked his arm out of Henry’s grip. “You’re already making me regret this,” he told. Before he drove off, he yelled over the engine’s sweet rumble, “Remember what you said about Tad!”

“Don’t worry!” Henry hollered back. “I'll dedicate my life to protecting Mr. Parrish-Lynch’s virtue! Whatever’s left of it anyway!”

Flipping him off, Ronan pulled out of the parking lot with more flair than necessary, seething the entire way back to the Barns. He clomped his way up the front steps and slammed the front door behind him, causing Opal to squawk loudly from the living room in response to the commotion. 

Adam rounded the hallway, looking slightly rumpled. He took one look at Ronan and greeted carefully, “Hey.”

Ronan removed his boot and hit it against the floor twice, fuming. “Apparently we’re having a _party_ tonight.” The word alone filled Ronan’s mouth with ash.

Adam looked confused, but to Ronan’s surprise, he said, “I know. I was here when you and Henry got completely pissed watching Top Gear, remember? I’ve already got the grill out, and the charcoal briquettes. I found some chairs in the attic as well. Not many, but I think they should be enough. Also, I know that you don’t care, but I took out the china. They’re the only things you have that aren’t stained to shit by pasta sauce. And I made some lemonade. That’s what WASPs drink at this kind of thing, right? I guess it’s a little late to be asking. Anyway, do you want some?”

“Jesus,” Ronan breathed out reverently, “you’re unbelievable.”

Adam shrugged, adding, “I also bought some laxatives. Just in case Tad decides to get fresh again.”

Ronan pounced on him without a second thought. They almost couldn’t make it to the bedroom in time (which would have been embarrassing for them and Opal, and would have had to lead to a conversation that Ronan refused to have with the girl he pulled out of his dream).

And, really, who could blame him?

 

* * *

 

“Has anyone told you,” Adam said, voice tight from patience stretched thin, “that you’re completely impossible when you’re sick?”

Ronan sniffled balefully in response.

“Not that you’re not impossible on a daily basis,” Adam continued from where he stood – far away from Ronan’s death bed, and one step away from a quarantine tent - “but this is literally the worst that you have ever been. I don’t even know what to do.”

“You could come over here,” Ronan suggested in that hoarse voice of his.

Adam threw him a skeptical look. “And you’ll let me call the doctor if I do?”

“Just come here,” Ronan groaned sadly from underneath the pile of blankets.

There was a pause before Adam finally said, “I have a test on Monday.” There was regret in his voice, but it did little to soothe Ronan’s self-pity.

Ronan knew that it was not fair to ask so much of Adam, that he was being a demanding patient – he complained about the heat, then the cold, and he refused to eat whatever Adam brought him, asking for one thing only to deny it later. Worst of all, he stubbornly refused to see the doctor, and because of this, Adam had to play nurse based on the internet (which was helpful) and fragments of his own memories (which were less so), thoroughly convinced that he was doing everything wrong.  Ronan knew that Adam was frustrated and annoyed, and beneath all that, he was also plain worried. Because of this, he decided to go easy on Adam for once.

“It’s fine. Stay with Opal. I’m going to take a nap.”

Adam hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Jesus,” Ronan mumbled tiredly. “Just go.” He felt it the moment Adam was gone, and he spent minutes feeling completely miserable until he finally nodded off.

When Ronan woke, his face was pressed against something warm and comforting. It took a while for his brain to start functioning again, and when it did, he realized that he was lying on Adam’s chest. When he tried to move away, Adam pulled him back into his arms.

Ronan tried to protest, “Stop. You’ll get sick.”

Adam began to run his fingers over Ronan’s warm scalp. “Do you really want me to leave?”

Ronan tried to let reason win. He really did. But he only ended up muttering, “No.”

“I made you oatmeal,” Adam said, after a moment of silence. Before Ronan could even ask, he continued, “Yes, I added strawberries, just the way you like it. I’ve put Chainsaw in Declan’s room. She’s all fed and happy. I’ve also given Opal a bath, and she’s in bed now. All worn out from asking for you, I bet.”

Struggling a little, Ronan lifted his head from Adam’s body and said, very seriously, “I could kiss you right now.”

Adam smiled wryly. “Please don’t.”

Still, he touched the tip of his nose to Ronan’s in the sweetest gesture.

Ronan felt a sharp tug in his chest, and despite a headache and a high fever, he realized that he was happy with the utmost clarity.

 

* * *

 

Ronan was halfway out the door when he remembered that the truck would not start.

“Shit,” he spat furiously. “ _Fuck_.” He dropped his keys back onto the table and stormed into the kitchen, searching for the card with the garage’s number on it.

Adam wandered in just as he was yanking open the third drawer. “What are you doing?”

“The number,” Ronan answered back incoherently. “Fucking mechanic.”

Filling his glass with water, Adam asked, “Is there something wrong with the truck again?”

Ronan made an irritated noise behind his throat and gave up on his search. “Damn truck broke down last week and I forgot to get it fixed. I’m supposed to go to the market with Peter today. Now I need to cancel.”

Calmly, Adam started making himself a sandwich. “There’s no need. I already fixed it. It should work. Did you even try starting it?”

“What?” Ronan’s tone was incredulous. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Adam shrugged. “You were busy. Also, you’re supposed to bring Opal with you today, remember? She’ll sulk if you leave without her.”

A month ago, Opal had whined, fought, and begged, asking to go to the farmers’ market with Ronan, and he had managed to put it off in the hope that she would no longer remember. Unfortunately, Opal apparently had the memory of a goddamn elephant.

“I’m already late. I don’t have time to dress her.”

Adam didn’t bother looking up as he cut off the crusts, saving them for Chainsaw after he was finished. “It’s already done. She’s good to go.”

Ronan watched as Adam licked the jam off the knife, feeling a familiar stir in his groin. He stared as Adam moved around the kitchen in that ratty pair of boxers that rested low on his hips, absentmindedly giving Ronan a kiss on his way out.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ronan cursed under his breath, desperately wishing for a cold shower.

He did _not_ have time for this bullshit.

 

* * *

 

It was difficult to kiss Adam when he insisted on smiling like he knew something Ronan didn't.

“Stop it,” Ronan grumbled, tugging at Adam’s shirt, trying to get the damn thing off.

Adam laughed, eyes so bright that Ronan forgave the fact that Adam was really laughing at him. “So this is what turns you on?”

Satisfied that Adam was finally pulling off his own clothes, Ronan set about removing his own. He replied, distractedly, “What? Is it news that having you naked turns me on?”

Adam pushed Ronan down onto his back in their bed, and crawled on top of him when they were fully stripped, playful expression still on his face. “Not that. Me getting things done – making lists and sorting out your mess – that’s what turns you on, isn’t it?”

To Ronan’s horror, he was turning pink. “That’s not – I don’t –”

The expression on Adam’s face turned into something gentler. “Hey, it’s alright.” Then he turned a little shy. “I like that you like it. I like being useful. I like – I like you… needing me.”

They stared at each other then, suddenly feeling the weight of words both said and left unsaid – the weight of everything that they had been through together; anything that they could weather together.

“God,” Ronan breathed out quietly, painfully honest, “what would I do without you?”

Smiling, Adam pressed his hand against Ronan’s chest, as if he hadn’t already left his mark a long time ago.

“Lucky for us, you’ll never have to find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written from Ronan's perspective. It was tough, but kind of easy too, because aren't we all a bit in love with Adam Parrish?
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://juderagnarsson.tumblr.com).


End file.
